The love of my life
Is a city.
One I left eight years ago this month.
This WaPo love letter wasn’t by me. But it could have been.
D.C. is one of the few places in America where a keen interest in civics isn’t mocked, it’s celebrated. You see that quirky passion when your friends cram into your rowhouse to watch debates and make a presidential bingo scorecard. You can sit down to a casual lunch and strike up a conversation about women in the military with the two-star general sitting next to you. For a girls’ night out, you might suggest lining up to listen to Madeleine Albright speak at a think tank. When your college friends reminisce about their days tailgating, you’ll remember when your friends celebrated decisions on the steps of the Supreme Court and election outcomes in Lafayette Square.